


you have reached a phone number that’s no longer in service for you (or so I thought)

by lostinthesounds



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Exes, F/M, Fluff, Some angst, basically just a voicemail compilation fic and little scenes, idk what this is, jealous!Clarke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:09:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24548164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostinthesounds/pseuds/lostinthesounds
Summary: A few lost voicemails, and a conversation that was never supposed to happen. [Mostly Clarke’s voicemails throughout the years after their breakup]
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 16
Kudos: 116





	you have reached a phone number that’s no longer in service for you (or so I thought)

_"I don't know why I keep doing this," She said, and he could imagine her wishing she had never done this in the first place. "I've been blocking your number every time the message is close to sending, because I'm scared of how you'll react." Bellamy exhales, pressing his fist against the wall. "I heard your song on the radio today, the one you wrote for Josephine. She told the entire radio station that she loved your song from the second she heard it, and I knew exactly how she felt. I'm proud of you, and don't worry, I've been telling my roommates all about my friend from back home who wrote it." She rushes to get the last few words in before the call stops, knowing she has to time herself to delete it. 'I miss you."_

Bellamy holds his girlfriend Echo a little tighter that night, his phone turned off to stop the temptations to listen to Clarke’s voice, even though it’s all he could think about. The desperation in her words, it makes him ache.   
  


He misses her. A girl who he hasn’t seen in six years.   
  


In that moment, he doesn’t care if Echo is asleep, he would wake her with his lips pressed to the back of her neck. He needed a distraction.   
  


* * *

When he heard this voicemail in particular, something inside his heart snapped open and he began to feel every ounce of love he ever had for Clarke. Every bit of his soul that felt intertwined with hers. He missed her too. It was kind of pathetic when he thought about it, because it’s been six years and he’s with someone else. 

_"I don't know how to make it better,"_ _Her voice cracks, crying out into the speaker._ _"I know I made a mistake, and that I hurt you before. I miss you more than I would ever tell you, and I also know that you're going to hear this and wonder why I told you that I blocked you if I'm dying to talk to you. I'm sorry for leaving and I wish I went with you, that I pushed myself to follow you and reject the offer to go to NYU." S_ _he laughs, but it's forced and dry._ _"I know you're thinking that NYU was my dream, and it was. But then I met you and everything changed, and you're on a plane to California to meet with Josephine and her dad and I wish I was there."_

  
He remembers that moment too. He was a nervous wreck on the plane, having to talk to Octavia on the phone before he walked out of the airport with his bags to calm him down. He remembers the charming smile of Josephine Lightbourne in all her sparkly clothes and her father’s black suit that made no sense to wear in the heat of California.   
  
  


Russell told him then, “You’re going to do great here, kid. We’re going to make you bigger than you could ever imagine.”   
  


As he ducked his head into the limousine and forced a smile, he didn’t know what to say besides thank you and a happy to be here.   
  


He wasn’t a star. Quite frankly, he never wanted to be.   
  


He just wanted to write music.   
  


He was a boy with a broken heart, so he couldn’t possibly feel happy to be here.   
  


* * *

  
“ _Are you happy?” A single pause in between sentences makes something rooted deep inside his heart ache, and he doesn’t know how to describe how he feels. If he was given the chance to answer, he probably wouldn’t even know what to say. “I wish I had the courage to do more than delete these voicemails, to be strong like you always thought I was.”_

  
No. He wasn’t happy.   
  


Clarke thought she was weak then. But it was farthest from the truth.   
  


If Bellamy was hearing these for the first time six years ago, he would’ve ran back to her.   
  


Without thinking.   
  


He would’ve been the weak one.   
  


* * *

_“I’m proud of you Bellamy,” She starts to say, but she’s cut off by her own tears. “I know there’s no way you’ll possibly hear this, but I hope that wherever you are in the world that you could feel what I’m saying.”_

  
Bellamy throws his phone across the room then, in the dim light of his office past midnight. Echo is asleep, and his eyes are heavy and eyelids burning to stay open even though he has to finish his song so Josephine could hear it in the morning, but he’s been aching to listen to Clarke’s voice all day.   
  
  


It had been a few days since he listened to one of her voicemails.   
  


Lately, it had become a habit when he needed comfort. When he didn’t want sex. When he wanted to remind himself of simpler times.   
  


He needed comfort. That’s all.   
  


It wasn’t that he missed Clarke. Or felt the need to see her after six years just to remind himself that he couldn’t possibly love her again.   
  


* * *

_  
“I bought myself a copy of Josephine’s albums from Target today, and when I opened the booklet, I didn’t expect to see your name under every song. Then again, I shouldn’t be surprised. I always knew you’d go somewhere with your writing, and you proved me right. I loved it.”_

Bellamy remembered that day too. He cried seeing his name in the second to bottom line credits of songwriters for the album, and when he saw his name listed next to Josephine’s every time he googled the song lyrics to make him grin of pride.   
  


It was one of the best days of his life. And by then, it had been a whole year since he’s seen Clarke and he remembers how much it hurt to feel proud of himself without her around.   
  


It feels good to know that she’s been proud of him all along.   
  


* * *

_“Now that school’s over, I was able to find a cozy apartment to share with Raven—oh wait, you don’t know who that is. Well, she’s great. It’s close to my parent’s house in the city, and it’s not that far from the gallery where I showcase my art every weekend. It’s perfect for right now.”_

  
Standing in the bathroom of a house party filled with music producers and Echo’s model friends, he grounds himself with this voicemail in particular.   
  
  


Clarke was happy back then. He had nothing to worry about now. If she was happy, then he was happy for her.   
  


He wonders how good of a friend Raven was.   
  


* * *

He could hear the sound of liquid being poured into a glass, and he’s a little surprised to hear Clarke slur the beginning of the call _.  
_

_“I know it’s stupid, and I should be moving on because it’s been four years since you left and Monty keeps telling me that some hot model started following you on Instagram and I can’t stop thinking about you. You were my dream boy back in high school, and now that I lost you, I feel like I’m living a nightmare.”_

Bellamy wants to run to her.   
  


He just broke up with Echo, dropped her at a friends house, and he feels the insane need to run back home to see Clarke.   
  


He loves her. He misses her.   
  


And if these voicemails were any indication of how much she loved him, even if they were six years old, he doubted that they were gone.   
  


He needs to see her.   
  


* * *

_“If this is the last time I’ll ever have the guts to talk to you, I want you to know something. I want you to know that I never stopped, I will never stop—“_

He’s on a plane back to Arkadia when he plays this voicemail in his ear, pretending like it’s a phone call.   
  


He wonders if she still sounds the same.   
  


* * *

Clarke opens the door after hearing someone knock three times, wondering who it could be since Raven had already facetimed her from Wells’s apartment a few hours ago.   
  
  


Wrapping her sweater tighter around her frame, she twists the knob and pulls it open.   
  


She gasps, taking in the sight and return of a man she never thought but hoped she’d see again. Her heart tears open, and all the love she felt for him comes rushing back in waves. 

“Bellamy?” 


End file.
